


Legacies Left Behind

by thatdamnuchiha



Series: Regrets & Reparations [2]
Category: Naruto, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mineta Minoru Doesn't Exist, Angst, BAMF Uchiha Obito, Character Death, Crossover, Dadara, Female Uchiha Obito, Fluff, For the Naruto Characters, Generation Swap, Good Uchiha Madara, Good Uchiha Obito, Heroes & Heroines, Hurt/Comfort, I'd be hiding under the bed the entire time, It's mainly Canon!Obito though, M/M, Midoriya Izuku Has One for All Quirk, Musutafu, Mystery, Naruto Characters in the World of My Hero Academia, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Parental Senju Tobirama, Parental Uchiha Madara, Past Lives, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Senju Tobirama, Protective Uchiha Madara, Quirks & Chakra, Reincarnation, Repressed Memories, SI-Obito is Confused, Self-Insert, Semi-SI, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, Trauma, Uchiha Obito is Bad at Feelings, Vigilante Shinsou Hitoshi, Vigilante Uchiha Obito, Vigilantism, Violence, Well eventually anyway, You May Question The Tags But Wait And See, but not really, i guess?, the tag is just there to help discovery I guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2020-10-20 01:56:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20667416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdamnuchiha/pseuds/thatdamnuchiha
Summary: She knew things were going to go badly when the strange fuzzy giants named her Obito. That name wasn’t a common one, plus she was an absolute Naruto nerd, and she’d just died. Reincarnation, it seemed, was actually a thing. She had a whole list planned out of what she would do if she were somehow reborn as Uchiha Obito.But those plans were blown out of the water the minute she got the chance to have a good look out of the window.Because what stared back at her wasn’t Konoha. A modern city with a strange name that doesn’t feel a single thing like the place she used to live, nor the place she’s supposed to be. Obito is stuck in Musutafu, in the setting of an anime she barely knows anything about, with no idea of what to do with her quirks.Of course, she’d have just happily lived out her life to the best of her ability, thinking it a weird coincidence had Uchiha Madara not been ranked third best on the hero charts.





	1. Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Well... Here I am again... throwing out another WIP.
> 
> I'm drowning in them, but my brain loves flitting around between ideas, and this is one of them. You've probably never seen an idea quite in the vein of this one, but apparently I seem to specialise in out-of-the-box ideas. In some ways this is a OC-insert, but in other ways it's really not. Maybe I should call it a Semi-SI then... for a character who's in the wrong world. Or is she?
> 
> You'll have to find out I guess.
> 
> Oh, and btw, this is in the same world that lovely oneshot from before is, only this will be going into a bit more detail, and possibly having really cute friendships and parental figures and the like. Who knows? I've been reading a lot of BNHA fanfics lately (particularly of the vigilante Izuku kind, and I felt inspired) and that gave rise to this fantastical fic.
> 
> Enjoy my latest WIP.

Excitement followed by dread was the reaction to her name as she sat on the flooring of a traditional Japanese house. _They called her Obito. _Her heart raced, thinking about all the memories it stirred up from the time she was an actual adult, both in body and mind. She sat in the playroom – the only room in the house she was allowed to see. She couldn’t confirm anything. Couldn’t see the Hokage Mountain to check whether it was all just some weird coincidence. _But of course it couldn’t be… it was every fan’s dream to wake up in their favourite anime or manga so they could completely change the plot. _She’d had a plan too. A plan for if she woke up no matter the era she was in. _And if she was Obito, then she’d be old enough to participate in the Third Great Shinobi War when it came around. _She blinked, swallowing the lump in her throat all of a sudden. _And suddenly she didn’t want to be in the Naruto World. People threw pointy thing at each other, tried to cut one another up into tinsy tiny pieces. _Wails burst from her throat. Sure, she’d dreamt about waking up as one of the original cast of Naruto, but that hadn’t meant she’d wanted to be reborn as one. Dreams were dreams. They were safe things where one didn’t wound up dead or with debilitating injuries. _How many other people were named Obito for crying out loud? _It wasn’t a popular name.

Her sobs brought her parents to her, and Obito – _because that was her new name _– blinked at the far too smiley blonde picking her up and crooning at her. _That didn’t look like Minato-sensei, nor did it look like one of Uchiha Obito’s supposed parents. _“There, there, Obito-chan,” the woman whispered, rocking her in her arms as she sobbed her heart out. “What’s the matter?”

Obito didn’t understand anything. _Why could she understand the woman as if she was speaking a language she’d known? _In her last life she’d only known English and this new language didn’t sound a thing like it. It didn’t make any sense. None whatsoever. What had she done to get reborn as Obito? What insane overseer had shoved her into the tiny body _with _all her memories intact?

“Yuki?” a man asked, stepping hesitantly into the room. “What’s with Obito-chan? Does she need changing?”

“She’s clean… maybe she’s just a bit lonely,” Yuki, her presumably new mother spoke, blue eyes roaming over her tiny little form. “She hasn’t seen too much of us as of late.” A finger prodded at her cheek as she stopped crying to stare up at the two of them.

The man had black hair, and equally as dark eyes, so Obito was assuming that was what she looked like. _Plus apparently she was female too, as she had been in her last life, so that was one thing she wasn’t going to have to worry about. _“Aww, Obi-chan, did you miss your papa?” he crooned, and Obito was torn between laughing at his ridiculous face and being affronted at the babyish tone he’d taken. _It didn’t matter that she was technically a baby again, she had the mind of a fully-grown woman and she deserved some damned respect. _Fingers tickled at her sides, and her laughter broke free, the babyish chuckles making her want to find a deep hole and bury herself in it.

She was a damned baby. Again. Not that she really remembered the first time. _Her mind itched again, a dull throbbing pain making itself known as she looked between her new parents. _It felt like she’d forgotten something. Something big.

But whatever it was she’d forgotten would have to resurface in its own time. She wasn’t remembering it anytime soon, that was for sure.

She had to make it through the horrors of toddlerhood again, and that included nappy changes, and if that wasn’t the most humiliating thing she’d ever experienced then she didn’t know what else was. She hated nappies with a passion, but she hated sitting in her own excrement that much more. Silently, she wished her old memories had awoken that much later when she was passed that mortifying embarrassment.

Still, perhaps it was for the best. _It was the only way her reaction could be written off when she was first taken out. _Her parents had cloistered her away until her second birthday, keeping her in that room in an oddly protective fashion, so it wasn’t until she turned two that she was signed up for day-care.

_She was surprised Konoha had day-care for miniature shinobi—_

A towering city met her eyes, the sounds of cars meeting her ears as her mother carried her out of the house, and Obito’s world shattered, because staring back at her wasn’t Konoha. It wasn’t even everyday Japan. Everywhere she looked was something strange, whether they be men with horns, women with wings, little children with shark-ish features – _and if that didn’t scream Hoshigaki Kisame she didn’t know what did. _But none of them were Hoshigaki Kisame, because it wasn’t the Elemental Nations she was in. There was no cliffside with three faces. What there were, however, were numerous tall high-rise buildings and quaint little modern houses sandwiched between them.

“Kaa-chan?” she voiced. “Where are we?”

“In the city,” Yuki said, smiling down at her, but that wasn’t the answer she was looking for.

“_What _city? The, uh, name…” she said, stumbling over her words in the aftermath of her discovery. Her shocking discovery. The entire world had just been tipped on its head. She wasn’t in Konoha. There weren’t any shinobi. _Well there went everything she’d been thinking over for the past two years… _“What’s it called, kaa-chan?”

“Oh.” Her mother blinked. “_Musutafu. _That’s what it’s called sweetie,” she said, carrying her towards the car, buckling her into her child seat oblivious to the turmoil roiling through her.

_She knew that name, but from where?_

Biting her lip, she stared out of the car window as the scenery rolled by, revelling in it right up until the moment she saw the poster.

The one that had a picture of a man with blonde hair that stood up like two bunny ears at the forefront of his head. The one that had a caption she couldn’t read for the life of her because she was so fixated on those two words. The hero’s name.

All Might.

She wasn’t in a world where shinobi murdered each other. Oh no. She was in a world with ridiculous powers that made it easier to kill everybody, just like jutsu did but there was no requirement for hand signs beforehand.

Her thoughts were summed up in two words.

_Oh shit._


	2. Orphans

She entered the orphanage when she was five years old.

There was no fanfare about it. In fact, there were two other children in her exact situation. It didn’t change the fact that her parents were dead. She watched it on the news days after, stared at the breaking news banner flashing across the bottom of the screen. _Fifteen dead after villain attacks a park in broad daylight. _There were no names mentioned, just a little tag which told of fifteen people who fell prey to the bastard who’d attacked. Her parents made up two of that number. The parents of the other two brought that number up to six. Six of the villain’s victims had been parents, and only their children had survived. It wasn’t that the villain had spared the children. _No, it had been her damned parents who’d yanked the three of them out of the way before ushering them towards the nearest section of cover. _Of course that’d meant they’d become the bastard’s next targets. _He’d wanted to murder the children too – to send a message. To taunt the heroes he hated._

The image of her parents dying was burnt into her retinas. Every time she closed her eyes she could see the pair of them. See her father’s chest impaled with a spear of earth, the ground stained red underneath him as his guts spilled out down the shaft lifting him into the air. _She hadn’t looked too much at the scene after spying that. _It made her want to throw up. So instead she looked at her mother, racing to her side as soon as the villain wandered off – having spied more targets on the other side of the park.

That was probably one of the few reasons she’d gone unnoticed as she sat by her mother’s side, vision tinted red, hot tears running down her face as she heard the rattle of wheezing breath inside her crushed chest.

She didn’t know how long she’d just sat there, listening to her mother die before her eyes burnt and she collapsed, absolutely exhausted from the event of the day. She felt numb. Blank. She wasn’t exactly sure when she woke, but she was still lying down, her face half covered in the congealed blood of her parents. _The heroes were far too late, _she thought bitterly. _At least shinobi would’ve been fairly quick on the response to an attack like the one that’d just occurred. They wouldn’t have had to operate according to procedure and attempt not to kill the man who’d slaughtered numerous others._

Her expression darkened and she picked at the food given to her. It was nothing like what her parents made her. Sure, it wasn’t inedible, but it lacked the flavour Obito recognised as _home_. That flavour would never come back though. Her parents were dead. _Again. _Her shoulders sunk, ears twitching as she heard all the other kids whispering.

The other two had made friends in a heartbeat, along with a few enemies too, but none of them had wanted to approach her for some reason. Obito presumed it to be the dark expression currently resting on her face. _Wimps, the lot of them. _She sighed quietly, finishing off her meal, wandering over to where everybody was sitting in front of the television.

_She hadn’t seen lots of those in a while—_

Obito froze at the unfamiliar thought. _What was she thinking? Of course she’d seen televisions before she’d died. In fact, she’d had one in her vision just as she’d slipped away into death. _She shook her head, pushing the clamour in her mind to one side as she watched the news come on, and it was live. She almost rolled her eyes at the screeches of other children as the news crew captured the heroes at work.

_Hero._

Part of her couldn’t believe it was actually her reality – she could become a hero and save thousands of lives if she so desired. _Well, not that being a hero guaranteed she’d save thousands. _She sighed, eyeing the flaming carnage on the screen in front of them. _And yet part of her felt she needed to save people after everything she’d done. _Obito sighed again, plopping herself down alongside the other children as she watched the real, qualified heroes get to work. _They were fairly young heroes, the newswoman told them, and yet they were already making a splash on the scene._

“Look, look!” the brunette sitting next to her grabbed her arm. _Obito didn’t like physical contact. She hadn’t had much of it… not after… _She blinked, pulling her arm away as gently as she could, looking at the screen to see what had the girl so enamoured. “It’s the Storm Hero: Susanoo!”

Obito froze, eyes wide as she stared at the _familiar _profile of the man fighting amidst the rubble. She could hardly believe it. _She knew that person… _but how was that possible? She was Watanabe Obito, not Uchiha Obito. She was just a girl with spiky black hair who had a quirk that created ninja weapons from any part of her skin. _But she could also walk up walls and shoot fireballs from her lips whenever her fingers flickered through the hand signs. _Obito swallowed, staring at those whirling sharingan eyes on the screen, watching as the dark blue chakra constructed ribcage rose around the man _who’d all but destroyed her life before._

The Storm Hero: Susanoo was Uchiha Madara. There was no mistaking that fact.

She stumbled to her feet, the world seemingly spinning as she tried to gather her wits about her, settling instead for running away from the scene in front of her as quickly as humanly possible. Nothing made sense anymore.

_She didn’t even know who she was anymore._

Her quirk, _not the chakra that thrummed through her veins_, was only the creation of ninja weapons. It did nothing for her wielding abilities, and yet she knew how to throw them. _Like the moves and little twists of her fingers had been etched into her brain after thousands and thousands of repetitions. _She didn’t tell anybody about the chakra. Chakra was the stuff from Naruto, not My Hero Academia.

She raced through the short corridors, hurrying up the stairs, barging into the nearest room, diving onto the nearest bed and hiding under the covers. She didn’t care how childish she was being. Her world had been turned on its head yet again. _Nothing was ever simple when it came to her… _

“Hey!” A finger prodded at her shaking lump. “That’s my bed.”

“Denki, be nice,” a tired voice sounded, which was odd, considering how young the person sounded. “He looks like he’s crying.”

“Oh… one of the newbies?” Denki mused, and Obito stuck her head out, furiously wiping at her eyes as she stared between the two boys the same age as her. One had messy purple hair with matching eyes that seemed to be developing bags underneath them already. The other had slightly tamer blond-ish hair with a black lightning bolt on his fringe.

“Probably. Be nice, unless you want the matron to scold us… again,” the purple one mumbled, blinking languidly as he spotted her.

“Relax, ‘Toshi—Oh, heya!”

“I’m a girl,” she grumbled, glaring between the two of them.

“Um, you’re kind on my bed…”

Obito pulled the covers back over her head. “I’m hiding.”

“From what?” Denki leant forwards, curious, like all children seemed to be.

“The world.”

The purple boy snorted. “I guess you’ll fit right in with us then.”


	3. Friendship

“Pass the salt?” Obito asked, holding out her hand as she stared at the small TV screen in front of them. She munched on the chips that had been cooked as part of their dinner. The small bottle of salt was shoved into her hand, none of them looking at each other – all of their stares focused on the replay of the hero battle aired on screen. It was the main source of entertainment for them all in their special little space. Obito liked being away from the hustle and bustle of activity downstairs, even if the television screen up in the loft cracked with static every now and then. It was bearable. As was the company of her new friends. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

“No problem,” Denki said, grabbing her arm all of a sudden. “Look! Look! All Might is on screen now!”

“Cool,” Obito mumbled, staring at the oddly patterned hero.

“He’s not just cool, Obito-chan, _he’s legendary,_” Denki continued, and Obito smiled ever so slightly. “I don’t get how you don’t understand that fact.”

“’bito’s weird, Den,” Hitoshi said flatly.

“But that’s why we’re friends,” Obito mumbled, flopping back onto her back with a small sigh. She had long since grown accustomed to weirdness – the situation that was now her life was nothing to sneeze over.

There were flashes every now and then. Little visions of places she didn’t recognise. Of people she could recognise from before she had been born as Watanabe Obito. She had just learnt to look past those weird images and scenes. It made life a little easier to cope with. She had been on that world for a grand total of six years, as of that very day.

“Friends get each other stuff for their birthdays too,” Denki sang, and Obito sat bolt upright. “Well, at least for the first one since you came here at least…” he added on quietly, throwing her a small bundle of silky material.

A ribbon.

A bright red one to be precise.

“Huh…” Obito giggled, thinking of Ino and Sakura. “Wanna be the Ino to my Sakura, Den?” she asked, giggling gleefully even as Hitoshi and Denki gave her strange looks.

“Uh… What’s an Ino, Obi?” Denki asked, tilting his head curiously, black streak of hair bobbing as he stared at her expectantly. He was oddly similar to a puppy in some respects, and he was happy to show that side of himself around her.

“She was someone precious to Sakura…” Obito said, a smile on her face as she thought of the scene she had watched.

_The scent of the freshly cut grass of the park caught in her nose as she crouched on the branch of a nearby tree, watching, always watching—_Obito shook her head, pushing away the odd thought. She had seen that scene animated from behind her laptop screen. It wouldn’t do for her to get stuck in the murkiness of who and what exactly she was. Her friends had barely managed to pull her away from all of that craziness. She was Watanabe Obito now – and that was who she needed to be. There was no point in worrying about Uchihas and ninja. _Not yet at least. _

“Obi?” Denki stared at her curiously. “Why are you crying?”

Obito blinked, fingers going to her cheeks, and she nearly froze in shock at the sensation of the wetness there. She was crying. _When had she started crying? _A snigger escaped her lips, and she wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, scratching the back of her head sheepishly after she’d finished wiping her face clean. “Jus’ me being sappy,” she said, tucking the ribbon into her pocket. “Thanks, you two. You’re _super _awesome, ya know?”

“Ooh! Look, All Might’s back on screen! Lookie, look!” Denki shouted, pulling both of their gazes back of the static. “When I grow up, I wanna be just like him. All Might Mark Two!”

Obito slapped the back of his head. “You can’t call yourself that!”

“It’s a stupid name,” Hitoshi added in that dry voice of his.

“Wha…” Denki pouted. “Meanies,” he grumbled, folding his arms. “I’m never gonna talk to you again…”

“Denki is Denki,” Obito muttered, rolling her eyes as she interrupted his brewing pity party. He liked to throw them occasionally. “You aren’t some knockoff. ‘Sides… your Quirk is Electrification, or whatever its called. A hero name should be something to do with that, shouldn’t it?”

Denki blinked, losing the pout he’d been wearing so determinedly earlier. “You… you think I can really become a hero?”

Obito rolled her eyes yet again. “Duh. Doofus,” she said.

“Some of the bigger kids laughed at me…”

“Me and ‘Toshi will deal with idiots like that,” Obito grumbled, folding her arms. “Just give us their names, and we’ll take care of it tonight.”

“Ne, Obi… you kinda sounded like a villain there – you know, like from those movies the matron lets us watch sometimes…” Denki giggled, and Obito glared.

“You take that back! I’m not a villain, and not a cheesy one at that!” she declared. “I was just gonna scare them real good… a little pranking never hurt nobody.”

_Kushina had taught her well._


	4. Fall

She was eight when the world she had built came crashing down around her, and she was struck by the realisation that nothing was ever as simple as it seemed. Her death and rebirth was case in point.

“Obito!” Hitoshi gingerly shook her arm, tears falling from his eyes amidst the burning rubble they were both surrounded by.

“‘Toshi,” she murmured, unable to do much more than that as the ringing in her ears drowned out almost all other noises. “‘s OK…”

Denki was safely back at the foster home, in bed with a fever, and for that Obito was glad. A smile cracked at her lips. He was safe, and sooner or later he’d no doubt become a hero. Just like Hitoshi would as well. _Only now she might not be joining them. _

The rubble burnt against her skin, unnaturally hot thanks to the villain’s quirk – not that he’d used it against them specifically. They were just some of the victims of a shopping centre raid gone wrong. Idly, Obito wished they’d been closer to the fountain in the centre, where there was nice cool water which would quell the burning sensation on her right.

Her vision dimmed, and it was like static for what felt like a few minutes.

“Dammit!” the shouted curse made her smile as a hand slammed against the boulder above her, desperately pushing at it, a single black eye staring down at her. _Hitoshi had purple eyes. _

“Don’t… It’s OK, Kakashi,” her voice was deeper as she spoke, the weight of the slab of rock atop her making it hard to breathe. “I don’t think… I can make it…”

“Don’t say that!” Hitoshi’s voice slammed into her with the force of a freight train, and Obito blinked, staring at her purple-haired friend. “The heroes are on their way… just hold on…” A sob choked its way from his throat, tears sizzling as they made contact with the burning rubble.

“Get out of here, ‘Toshi,” she mumbled, the tremors in the ground growing that much more prominent, blackness seeping into the corners of her vision as she stared up at the sky. _It was prettier than the others she’s died under. _“You d-don’t deserve to die here… villain’s comin’… need tah leave…”

“Not without you!”

A smile pulled at her lips, despite the way the rubble shifted as the sounds of fighting grew louder. “Go.” Her hand reached up, weakly patting him on the cheek even as blood bubbled up behind her lips. “Then you can let the heroes know where I am,” she said, not believing a single word she was saying.

_It had taken a whole transplant of white Zetsu to repair her last time. But white Zetsu didn’t exist there and then. _

But Obito supposed that was what she got. _For betraying everyone at least once. _

Straightening, Hitoshi nodded, determination set on his face. Obito wished she could tell him it wouldn’t matter how determined he was. _It wasn’t like she was going to make it. _In fact, it was probably her penance for everything wrong she’d done in her _second _life as one Uchiha Obito. A snort escaped her in the eerie silence which had suddenly befallen her.

Every breath hurt more than the last, an all too familiar crushing sensation weighing her down on one side, and dimly Obito hoped she wouldn’t somehow survive for days like she had once upon a time. She was tired of slow, painful deaths. _Even if she hadn’t died one time…_

_Instead she’d simply been ‘rescued’ by old man Madara… _Obito blinked, eyelids heavy even as a familiar tug in her eyes made itself known. _That had been a fate somewhat worse than death. _If she’d died then everything would have been simpler.

_Or old man Madara would have simply found a different Uchiha to kidnap and drive to insanity, before building them back up oh so carefully in order to ensure they carried out his insane plans. _

She chuckled, almost choking on the coppery blood in her mouth as she did so. She despised being crushed, though apparently rocks felt the same way about her – given how she was now trapped under the stuff once more. _Rock was used to make walls, wasn’t it? _

Her eyes burnt like hellfire red flames, and she knew three tomoe would be spinning quietly inside her bloody irises. Dimly, she wondered if she had the mangekyou. _Probably, seeing as she had recently reacquired all the memories of the trauma… and the crushing sense of blame which accompanied it._

But what good would it do her now?

She was tired. So very tired. Even if she warped herself out she would still be injured, and it would lead to questions she couldn’t answer. _Because her quirk was creating ninja weapons from her skin. It didn’t involve a warping factor. _Her heart thrummed in her chest, and Obito shut her eyes, ignoring the shouts which echoed in her ears.

_Maybe now she could get some much needed peace and quiet?_

* * *

Fingers pressed into the side of her neck, burning warmth making her eyes flicker open the barest amount as she stirred from the depths of unconsciousness. She could hear the sounds of water rushing around her, the hiss of burning rubble being forcibly cooled down as a man with white hair and red eyes stared down at her with something akin to surprise.

_Well she was still alive after being half-crushed and crisped… and children of her current world were that much more squishy and breakable than those of the Elemental Nations. _

“Sakuramoto-san!” one Senju Tobirama yelled, and Obito scowled mentally at the vague sensation of being touched by one of her once rival clan. “We’ve got a live one here! Find someone with a healing quirk… we’re going to need it…” he murmured, and hands wove into familiar seals, granting her a scant amount of comfort and happy familiarity as something to the right of her shifted.

Her right side lightened then, considerably so, and Obito groaned instinctively, barely able to notice as she found herself on a stretcher. In fact, she fell asleep to the sounds of the ambulance sirens blaring.

_The universe never seemed to like letting her die easily._

* * *

Her fingers shook as she unwrapped the covering on her face. _Extensive scarring was all too likely, _they’d said, despite the healing quirks which had been used to save her life. _No white Zetsu needed there. _Their efforts had actually gone towards that rather than keeping her face looking wonderfully symmetrical.

_“A mirror!” _she had demanded all of ten minutes ago – the minute they had said the covering spreading over half of her face could finally come off.

Now there was an adult holding one out to her with bated breath, and a short elderly woman dressed in a hero costume she recognised from somewhere before waiting there too.

The images in reflected at her was a mix of familiarity and strangeness. She’d been scarred before, with skin folded down, but this time the skin wasn’t folded into crevasses spanning half of her face width. Instead the fire had marred her skin, forming dark red burn marks stretching from the side of her face and narrowing into little lines as they reached the middle half of her face.

Gingerly, she lifted her small fingers to prod at the rougher skin there, ignoring the pricking of tears in the corners of her eyes. _Because she was a girl, unlike the male body she had been in for her second incarnation – something she had desperately avoided trying to dwell on – and she cared for her appearance more than she liked to let on. _She could remember spending hours before school in her teenage years, stealing the bathroom for most of the morning in an attempt to beautify herself.

Obito shook her head, lip curling as she let her hand fall back down to the thin hospital mattress. There were matching scars all down her arm, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. _Of course her face would have been no different. _

“Take it away,” she grumbled, pulling the covers over her head, ignoring the adults as they conversed above her head. _It wasn’t going to change the fact that she probably now looked like she belonged on the set of a horror movie._

* * *

“Are you excited to be heading back?” Ami, her foster mother, asked, peering down at her – making a visible effort not to wince or stare at what had become of the right side of her face. It was a fact Obito appreciated somewhat, _if only because other children on the street had no problems gawking and shuddering at the sight of the grizzly scarring on her face. _

She hated children with an unholy passion in that moment, ignoring the snide voice in the back of her head that she and her friends were technically among that number.

“Hn.”

Ami only smiled sadly, letting her grunt go unchallenged. Obito had never exactly been the chattiest before she had been half-crushed, so it was hardly surprising to her guardian, and thankfully she didn’t press her any further. No doubt she had sensed the mood radiating from her.

Maybe that was why Ami opted to stop the taxi they were in, ushering her out of the car and into the convenience store closest to home.

“Why don’t you pick a chocolate bar?” Ami spoke, gesturing over at the section of the store dedicated to the candy range. “You can share it with Hitoshi-kun and Denki-kun when we get back… They’ve both been really worried this past week.”

Obito stared at the ground, chewing on her lip. _Well at least it wasn’t like she was going to be surprising them with the fact she was alive, unlike Kakashi. _A smile curved at her lips – a sardonic one. Hurrying over to the range, eager to clear the thought of that silvery-haired bastard, she looked between the brightly wrapped bars hidden deep within the shop. Ami hovered over her shoulder, smiling all the while.

The bell rang, another person entering close behind them, but Obito was far more interested in the promise of chocolate. At least until the shot rang out.

Her shoulders sunk, a scowl forming on her face as she turned to face the brewing action.

_Why couldn’t the universe let her off the hook for once?_


	5. Scars

Obito wasn’t having a good day.

The sweltering temperature inside the shop wasn’t helping much either, and silently she was plotting the many ways she could get away with murder. _And by that, she meant the murder of the idiotic villain with the quirk which was heating the place up as they sealed the glass doors shut. _They were barricading the shopfront. Obito could tell that much – and though she would have loved nothing more than to send a barrage of her quirk-made shuriken at them, she wasn’t in the Elemental Nations.

It was odd, how quickly regaining her memories as Obito had led to her becoming that much more homicidal, but Obito digressed. Her skills at fighting, the memories of her training, of how to use chakra fluidly, would come in handy. _Especially if she wanted to join her friends in becoming heroes. _The only downside was keeping her killer instinct in check.

_Subconsciously, she had missed that ability of hers. _But she couldn’t use it. Not then, not with so many witnesses who would wonder who exactly had made them wet their pants in fear. But perhaps as a hero she would be able to put it to good use. _To rectify some of the grievous errors she had made as Uchiha Obito. _

Silently, she snorted – not wanting to alert their captors to her amusement. _Uchiha’s were made from fire, ash, and steel. _She should have been thriving in that heat, but alas, recent facial scars caused by burns had given her… trauma. _Yet another dollop of the stuff to compartmentalise and forget about in a tiny little box, just as old man Madara had taught her. _Oh, she couldn’t wait to punch him in the face.

Though she would definitely be holding off on that endeavour, because as of the current moment in time Madara seemingly had no idea she had wound up in that world too. _And if she was completely honest, she wanted to keep it that way. _She didn’t particularly want to end up under his not-so tender care a second time.

Lip curling, she watched as the situation unfolded in front of her. _They were hostages. _All of them were, and negotiations were in progress. _She, Watanabe née Uchiha Obito, was a hostage. _Her fingers itched to throw sharp, deadly weapons with unnerving precision, but she could hold off on that. _Just let the heroes do their job, and everything would be fine—_

The shot rang out, cold and deadly in the unearthly stillness which followed.

Obito blinked, the scent of coppery blood hitting her nose, and she was reminded that humans weren’t infallible. _And that she probably ought to have done something, if she was aiming to be a hero. _She wasn’t a hero. She was a shinobi. She wasn’t used to saving people the way that world needed their heroes to be. She was used to slaughtering everyone who got in her way on her path to a so-called peace.

Snorting, a burst of oddly hysterical laughter escaping her, as everything around her seemed to burst into motion. _What a load of absolute bull that plan of Madara’s had been. _Hindsight was a bitch. Ami’s hand on her shoulder grounded her like an anchor as trees burst from the tiled floor between them. _She remembered growing trees like that before. _Sadly, those particular abilities hadn’t followed her – only her biological ones she had been born with, albeit advanced to the stage they had been in her later life.

_Though fortunately it seemed the blindness of the mangekyou had been offset by something. _The fact she was in a new body with a new pair eyeballs, perhaps? Or maybe something to do with her new biological makeup? Obito had no idea, only that it was handy. After all, she didn’t particularly want to go blind. _Not that she wouldn’t deserve it after her latest life. _

Her laughter died away, and, sensing the incoming presences, she ducked and hid her face in Ami’s shoulder. _Judging by the trees… _Obito didn’t have to guess who had come to save them. _Too late, if the body of the hostage shot as a warning was any indication. _She sneered into Ami’s shirt. _What would Madara care for some dead woman? _He had walked over plenty in his quest for peace. _Only she had a feeling Infinite Tsukuyomi would be so easy to pull of in that world… _Though admittedly everyone knew the truth about that terrible plan. Well, the people who mattered did.

“Itachi-kun, you’re in charge of the hostages,” the too familiar voice of Senju Hashirama boomed out, and Obito flinched. _He was the ‘good’ one. The Anti-Madara. _But sadly, opposites attract, so like magnets stuck together, the familiar cold tones of Uchiha Madara soon rang out in tandem with Hashirama’s.

Obito only buried her face further into Ami’s shirt, ignoring the slight sting it brought to her scarred cheek. _She was Tobi, and she was a good girl. She was Tobi, and she was happy. _The mask was slow to slip into place, but the calmness which followed let her relax – enough not to concern the paramedics she was swiftly taken to see upon her and Ami’s safe exit of the shop.

“I think it’s time we got home, don’t you think?” Ami spoke to her then, upon their exit under the tape which had been assembled to keep back the general public who had crowed to the scene like vultures to carrion.

Obito glanced down at the chocolate bar in her hand, half melted as it was. _Still, it had wound up being free, solely because she’d kept a hold on it. _Obito wouldn’t say no to free chocolate after everything that had just gone down.

After all, she was far too young to drink, no matter how the temptation burnt inside her. She also didn’t have the mokuton’s regenerative abilities, meaning she would probably collapse after one tiny sip, what with how small her body was.

“Hn,” she grunted, taking the proffered hand, letting the older woman – in body, at least – take the lead back to the house. _Back to her two precious friends. _Obito stiffened, eyes widening slightly as she realised she had well and utterly claimed the two boys as her own. _Like a damned genin team._

She wouldn’t let them end up like that woman hostage.

They were hers, and she was an Uchiha through and through.

The eyes never lied.

**Author's Note:**

> You probably know it by now if you've read a few of my other WIPs, but:
> 
> Sporadic Updates


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